


Flesh and Light

by ficsofthecavern



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Morning Wood, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, fleshlight, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26406559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsofthecavern/pseuds/ficsofthecavern
Summary: “It would help your mornings, if you enjoyed yourself,” Hannibal says softly and Will huffs, a heated red rising against his skin as he blushes and turns away to hide his face.“I can help you, Will,” Hannibal murmurs, and his voice is soft in the visceral need to please Will, so sincere in the statement, and Will swallows hard as his cock gives an interested twitch at the idea. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it; Having Hannibal on his knees or even himself below his strong frame has crossed Will’s mind more times than he’d care to admit._____In which Will has raging morning woods on their sailboat after the fall and Hannibal of course helps him out. The beginning of the fic is a quick summary of what had happened immediately after the fall, then goes into their time on the boat!
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 169





	Flesh and Light

Pain seemed to be a constant in Will’s everyday life as his body was still in the process of healing. Some days are worse than others, and when he boards the vessel that he and Hannibal are calling home for however long it takes them to get to Cuba the pain of his injuries is almost near-constant. Most mornings he just wants to scream at the deep blue ocean, because she was cruel, and decided to spit them back out after the fall from the cliffside. 

Chiyoh, bless her soul, pulled them both from the ocean’s grip, and dragged them across the sandy shore. She brought them to a safe house, where Will would find out that Hannibal had been acquiring many of them in the past three years he was in prison. How he got past Alana to be able to speak to Chiyoh he’ll never really know, but maybe he’ll ask one day. 

Preferably a day where he’s not in pain. 

Three days after the fall he had woken up in a soft queen-sized bed. He had heavily bruised ribs, both of his shoulders had been reset, and his left arm was in a cast and sling, broken cleanly. Chiyoh had explained this as she fed him a broth of soup. It was a kind thing to do for him, since both arms were out of use at the time. She then very coldly explained that her nursing him back to health was for Hannibal’s sake only. The scar tissue around the bullet from her sniper pulls taught sometimes, and phantom pains sting with the memories of his time in Italy. 

“In the brief moment of clarity, his only request had been your well being.” She had said, and Will wanted to ask about him, knowing that Hannibal must have been far worse than he, but he didn’t trust his voice. She could tell though, and after a soft sigh explained that the only extensive injury to Hannibal was the gunshot wound and bruised hips. However, the bullet did tear at his organs, and it would be quite a while before he would be up to par to do anything besides bed rest. 

Chiyoh had been paying a private doctor a very, very large sum of Hannibal’s money to do house visits for them. The “Murder Husbands,” as Freddie Lounds had once called them were not in the news yet, Will had checked every day when he had the strength enough to lift the remote, and he knew Jack and the FBI had to be completely sure the ocean didn’t swallow them up before sounding any alarm.

When Will gained enough strength to be able to walk without feeling like fainting he made his way to Hannibal’s side and seldom left it after. It pained Will more than he thought it would have to see Hannibal so sick, and Will vowed to keep him alive, whatever it took. They were both alive and he was going to keep it that way for as long as possible. There was so much to make up for, so much to say, so much to _do_. 

He helped to clean Hannibal’s dressings, change the colostomy bags, clean his skin, give his medicine and everything, and anything in between. Nothing could come close to the intimacy they shared on those cliffs, so doing these things was nothing, and after a while, Chiyoh stopped hovering and let him attend to Hannibal in peace. Some things he couldn’t do alone of course, with only one hand available, but he was always polite enough to ask in kind. 

They had to leave if they were to have any form of life. So when it was time, and they were healthy enough, bags were packed into the car in the dead of night and Chiyoh drove them to the marina. Before long Hannibal’s little guardian was left onshore as the boat drifted off on a sea of smooth black glass. 

  
  
  
  


They share the larger bed, as the second “bedroom” in the aft of the sailboat has to be used as a storage space. Neither mind, especially not Hannibal, and Will enjoys the warmth of a second body sleeping next to him. With Will’s left arm still in a sling, he sleeps on the left side of the bed to avoid colliding it with Hannibal, and it works out since the bullet wound is on Hannibal’s right side. 

On the fifth night of their journey, they are completely surrounded by nothing but an endless horizon, the water stretching for miles all around. It’s so vividly similar to Will’s lonesome journey across the Atlantic all those years ago that it brings unwanted memories into his dreams. 

Will wakes with a gasp, panting hard and gulping in air as if he had been drowning, and maybe he had been. The lingering taste in his mouth is nothing but salt and it’s dry, so dry, like he’s been drinking nothing but ocean water, and the rest of his body is soaked, so soaked, skin dripping with sweat. He lifts a shaky hand to brush back the curls that stick to his face and swallows hard, trying to ease the dryness of his throat. 

“Will?” Hannibal calls out next to him, voice slow and sleepy but no less concerned, “Are you alright?” Hannibal reaches out, knuckles lightly touching the back of his hand and Will twitches at the contact before he remembers that he doesn’t need to act fine, not in front of Hannibal.

Before Hannibal can pull away Will grabs his hand and threads their fingers, clutching tightly. He lets out a long breath through his nose and lets their hands fall back onto the mattress. He looks over to Hannibal, as much as he can in the darkness anyway. It’s pitch black in their little space, but there’s a window above them that lets in the moonlight and Will can see the shine in Hannibal’s dark eyes. 

Hannibal’s thumb lightly caresses the side of Will’s finger in a reassuring touch and it soothes Will into a calmer beast. “I’m okay, just a bad dream,” Will says and closes his heavy eyes again, willing himself to relax. He can feel Hannibal’s gaze still on him, warm and observing, and Will feels safer somehow as if Hannibal was on guard to watch and make sure the nightmares stay out this time. It’s easy to fall back asleep under his watchful gaze and the soothing touch of his fingers.

During the nights that follow, when they’re both on their backs, ready for sleep to take over, Will freely reaches out for Hannibal’s hand. It’s a small touch, so simple, and yet he knows it means the world to Hannibal, who can thrive only by Will’s smile and the knowledge that he was the one who put it there. Will longs for more, wanting Hannibal’s touch to cover him, but doesn't dare, in fear that he will become rabid for his touch and ruin what healing they’ve already been through.

  
  
  
  


The past few mornings have been rough, to say the least. Will wakes hot and tight and in more places than just his shoulders. His body, battered and bruised as it is, has lovingly decided that the simple touch of holding hands at night should be enough to give him raging morning woods. He has tried to hide them with a bend of a leg, pooling the sheets up so they don't show the obvious tent by his groin but Hannibal is a naturally early riser and is usually already up and about by the time Will wakes. 

If Hannibal notices, he’s polite enough not to say anything, and Will thinks that makes it worse. He knows how sensitive Hannibal’s nose is, and can probably scent Will’s blood and arousal as easily as the sweat that clings to the sheets. Will can’t even fix it in the bathroom, his shoulders too stiff and painful to even pump his hand, so he sprays himself with cold showers to will it back down. 

Tonight though, Hannibal has had enough. He can smell the discomfort in Will in the mornings and hates the bitterness of his scent as he tries to hide something completely normal for a man to experience. And as Will’s sentinel, his guardian, his lover, Hannibal will make sure he does everything he can to make sure Will is happy and satisfied. 

It had been an exceptionally sunny day and the heat had made them both retire early. The comforter lies in a bundle at the end of the bed and the thin white sheet covers Will modestly from the waist down. The last rays of the sunset cast warm orange shadows in their bedroom, across Will’s exposed skin as he didn’t bother with a shirt, and Hannibal stands in the doorway to simply look, admiring the younger man as if he was a delicious looking pastry in the window of a bakery.

“Are you going to get into bed or continue drooling all night?” Will chides, an eye slitting open to reveal a slice of berry blue as he looks back at Hannibal. Hannibal’s eyes glint in a smile, the amber in them bright with the last rays of the sun, and he slowly, finally, climbs in. Hannibal’s chest is also exposed, the bottom half of him covered by a wrap of white gauze to keep his stitches in place and he wears soft loose sweats. Will has been choosing to wear briefs at night, hoping the tighter fabric could keep his erections in the morning discrete. 

Hannibal gently lowers himself to the bed and Will relaxes at his presence, turning his head towards him and closing back his eyes. He listens to the shift of the sheet as Hannibal sticks his legs beneath, the bed dipping slightly as he relaxes back against the pillows.

“Will?” Hannibal asks for his attention and Will gives a hum to say he was listening. “When was the last time you had an orgasm?” 

Will damn near chokes on his own spit as he swallows, stuttering out “What?” at the sudden and personal question, staring blankly over at Hannibal who's looking as calm as if he was asking Will what the weather was for the day. 

“It would help your mornings, if you enjoyed yourself,” Hannibal says softly and Will huffs, a heated red rising against his skin as he blushes and turns away to hide his face.

“I can help you, Will,” Hannibal murmurs, and his voice is soft in the visceral need to please Will, so sincere in the statement, and Will swallows hard as his cock gives an interested twitch at the idea. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it; Having Hannibal on his knees or even himself below his strong frame has crossed Will’s mind more times than he’d care to admit. 

“Are you nervous about sexual intimacy, Will?” Hannibal asks, and his voice is easily slipped back into a clinical tone. “We’ve already experienced something that doesn’t even begin to compare to it.” And that is true, they have shared something that can’t measure to any form of sex he can think of. Turning his head to look back at Hannibal he sees him from the night on the cliffs. That utter look of absolute pride and pleasure in Hannibal’s expression as he stares at Will’s blood-soaked body. The complete high Will felt as he gutted open their prey with Hannibal was the beginning of an addiction he knew would only get worse.

“W-what do you have in mind?” Will asks, blinking away the image from their hunt to come back into the present. The sun has finally drifted off to sleep, what light filters in casting a dark blue. Hannibal smiles and shifts, slowly sitting back up. 

“Do you trust me, Will?” Hannibal hums, hand gripping the sheet around Will’s waist and he slowly pulls it down to rest it just below the end of his briefs. A soft gasp leaves Will’s lips, the air cooler than his burning up the skin and he swallows with an audible click. 

Will licks his lips and bites at his lower one, hard enough to bruise as he tries to collect himself. He nods before remembering it was too dark. “Yes,” Will breathes out, and there’s a dull ache in his shoulders from tensing so much so he rolls them before forcing himself to relax. “Even if it is unwise.” 

Hannibal hums, making shuffling noises as he reaches to his side of the bed for something. Will closes his eyes, feeling safer behind his eyelids than in the darkness of the room. The beast that resides inside Hannibal slips out from behind his ribs to rub against Will’s side, coaxing his own to come out. 

“There will be no more lies between us, Will. We will not be able to hide from each other, not anymore. You see me, as I see you.” There's a loud pop from a cap being opened and Will flinches from the sudden sound. 

“I-I want to see you,” Will whispers, chest shaking with anticipation from whatever Hannibal was about to do to him. “And I want you to see me,” He adds, and Will can feel Hannibal’s presence as he leans closer to his face, can feel the heat coming from his body, and smell his natural scent as he had not washed off the sweat from the day. 

“I do see you, Will. And you are magnificent,” Hannibal murmurs, breath ghosting against Will’s neck before he feels gentle lips press an opened mouth kiss against the gauze on his cheek. Will turns his head towards him, opening his mouth to seek a proper embrace but Hannibal backs away. Will whines at the loss, and Hannibal’s soft chuckle is almost cruel to him. “Shh, sweet boy. I’ll take care of you.” 

Hannibal places his hand on Will’s thigh to let him know he was there, touch soothing up and down, palm moving from above to his inner, softer thigh and Will pulls his leg up slightly, pressing into the touch. His cock is now straining against his briefs and he’s sure there’s a dark spot where the head of his cock presses against the fabric.

Hannibal’s nostrils flare as he takes in the spicy atmosphere, air filled with Will’s arousal. His hand slips into the opening of his briefs, fingers curling around Will’s hard cock to pull him free. He holds him by the base strokes once up the soft flesh, enjoying the way Will twitches when he thumbs at his slit. Hannibal knows he can’t bend over, and his side is already starting to hurt slightly, even just from leaning over the tiny bit he is. 

In his free hand, Hannibal has the toy he had gotten out along with the lubricant, the pink flesh of it already slicked down, and holds Will up to attention to slowly slide the toy down onto him. Will lets out a low groan and it’s music to Hannibal’s ears, sending small fissures down his spine at the noise, pleasing Will just as enjoyable.

As the tight wet flesh encases him, Will for half a second thinks it’s Hannibal’s mouth, but it was too cold and he can smell the plastic of the toy. He breathes in as Hannibal shifts next to him, settling down onto his back to relieve his side and hip. His hand never falls from the toy, making sure it stays put. 

“I-is this a Fleshlight?” Will asks, shock in his voice that _Hannibal_ fucking _Lecter_ would own a _Fleshlight_. Hannibal simply hums and Will can all but see the smirk across his face, sensing it in the air, letting out a shuddering breath as Hannibal slowly starts to pump his hand. Will is painfully hard now, the Fleshlight warming quickly from his own heat and he can feel the low pool of his oncoming orgasm starting to rise deep below his stomach. “Hn-Hannibal,” Will whines and he needs, he needs, but he doesn’t know what. 

“I’m here, Will,” Hannibal breathes, and he sounds almost breathless too. “You’re absolutely breathtaking, my sweet boy.” 

Despite the pain in his shoulders Will forces himself to shift closer, body gravitating towards Hannibal, and when their sides touch he lets out a loud moan. Touch, he realizes, he needs his touch. He reaches out with his good hand, as much as his shoulder would let him grip Hannibal's arm and the slick sounds echo loudly around the darkness as Hannibal picks up the pace. Will’s head flops down against Hannibal’s shoulder, bobbing along with the movement of Hannibal’s arm and he moans again, feeling the lava start to rise, whining out, “I’m so close.” 

“Come for me, Will,” Hannibal purrs, turning his head to press a kiss into Will’s soft curls, and Will nuzzles his forehead into Hannibal’s shoulder before letting out a guttural moan, hips twitching. Hannibal engulfs Will with the toy as he comes, his load pooling at the end of the toy before Hannibal slowly pulls up and Will’s seed starts to drip down his shaft. He takes in a greedy breath, smelling the saltiness of Will’s release, and slowly draws the toy up and down Will’s softening cock until he’s a whining overstimulating mess, Will's nails digging into his arm. He lets out a long breath once Hannibal pulls the toy off of him and his body shivers in pleasurable aftershocks. His cock is cold and wet now, limp against his briefs and he can feel his sweat cooling in the crevices of his joints. 

Hannibal gently tucks him back away before he lifts the toy to his lips and takes a long drag of his tongue against the opening, moaning as he tastes Will for the first time. It’s bitter but still entirely Will, and he knows the longer Will eats from what he provides, his beloved will soon taste as good as any four-course meal. 

“Hannibal,” Will growls and demands, “You better kiss me.” 

Hannibal smiles, turning his head as Will tilts his head up, knowing they will always be able to find each other in the dark. Hannibal’s nose touches just above the gauze on his cheek, nuzzling like a happy cat as he replies, “Of course, mylimasis. It would be my pleasure." His lips then press to Will’s in a chaste kiss, testing the waters, and when Will opens his lips wide in invitation Hannibal devours him, tongue slipping behind his teeth for a taste. Will moans into his mouth as he tastes himself on Hannibal’s lips and he desperately wants to continue, but his shoulder is starting to ache painfully, and he has to pull away with a sad groan. 

Hannibal chuckles softly and relaxes back against the pillows himself. “We have all the time in the world once we are fully healed," he says and Will nods, his body feeling heavy and sedated and all he wants to do is fall asleep, but Will is not selfish. 

“What about you?” He asks quickly. 

“I’m fine, Will. Sleep. Knowing you are satisfied pleases me enough.” 

Will sighs inwardly and shakes his head. “It would also please me to hear you come,” he says softly, and after a beat of their hearts he adds, “Please.” 

Hannibal sucks in a breath and his erection throbs beneath his sweats, his free hand slipping beneath to squeeze himself hard. “Of course, my lamb,” Hannibal whispers, pulling himself free and stroking long and slow up his shaft. 

“Use the toy, sweetheart,” Will murmurs; a soft demand and Hannibal’s breath hitches. He places the used toy onto himself, the soft pink flesh wet with Will’s spent, and moans as he drags it down onto himself. He knows he won't last long, and comes only after a few strokes as Will whispers in his ear, his low timbre voice echoing sweet praises. 

Hannibal tosses the toy to the side, panting in the aftermath. He reaches down to find Will’s hand and threads their fingers, squeezing tight and Will happily reciprocates. 

It’s easy for both of them to find sleep with the soft sway of the boat, their beasts curled tightly around each other, keeping warm. They’re relaxed from their release, and there’s a sweet scent of love in the air that lasts well into the morning light. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I had this pop into my head after, ahem, some time to myself watching others do this > >  
> Hope you enjoyed, comments always help me smile, see you in the next fic!!!


End file.
